Make Now Okay
by PolkaDotSocks93
Summary: Set After "Too Far Gone". Beth and Daryl's relationship begins to flourish after the fall of the prison. Daryl needs to keep her safe, and Beth needs to keep Daryl going. After they've lost everything, they both realize the only thing they can do is make now okay.


Running.

Running until their legs gave out.

Running until their lungs burned.

Running until their sides hurt.

And then, running some more.

Daryl wasn't sure how long they'd been running; the past two days had been a blur to him. Going to the veterinary college to get medicine, driving back, arriving just in time to save Glenn, and having mere hours of normalcy.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

The Governor, complete with a new army, one unaware of his manic deeds just months before, they had shown up, with heavy artillery. They had Hershel, they had Michonne. They had his friends.

They had his family.

It happened so fast, the katana struck Hershel's neck so fiercely that Daryl knew he was dead instantly. He and Carl have the same reaction; they couldn't believe Hershel was gone. Daryl watched Maggie and Beth begin to fire, they shouldn't have to. A part of him hoped Maggie or Beth would be the one to kill The Governor, but he also hoped Rick or Michonne would have the pleasure.

Hell, he hoped he could gut that rat bastard like a deer himself.

Then, the fighting broke out. They all fought, everyone. In a haze, all he remembered was shooting that man with bolts, and throwing the grenade into the tank. He wanted them dead. He wanted every one of those people dead. He didn't see anyone he recognized. He didn't see Rick. Or Michonne. Glenn. Maggie. Tyreese. Sasha. Bob. Carl. Judith.

And then, in the haze of smoke, he spotted her.

Beth.

She had a gun in her hands, she was looking for something.

"I was trying to find the kids. To get them on the bus." Beth said, scanning the prison yard for any sign of their people. Daryl knew they had to leave. She may be the only one left alive, other than him. She made it. She survived.

"We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go." Daryl whispered. She didn't argue, she didn't fight it. She knew. She knew they had to leave.

So they ran. They ran as fast as their feet could carry them. Soon, Beth's gun ran out of bullets. Daryl was running low on bolts. They ran through the woods, Beth surprisingly keeping up with him. He'd never admit it, but he was terrified to leave her. Beth didn't think, she just ran. She ran as fast as she could, her eyes locked on the angel wing vest in front of her.

He was all she had left, she wasn't letting him run away from her.

They ran, killing as many walkers as they could. They didn't know where they were headed. Soon, they couldn't run anymore, and they collapsed in the grass.

Daryl tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't. All he could focus on now was who was beside him.

Beth.

He knew she wasn't weak. He knew she was stronger in some ways than he was.

But he gave up looking. He could've killed The Governor. He could have stopped this whole thing from happening.

But he didn't, and now Hershel was dead.

It was all Daryl's fault.

And now, Daryl was stuck with a constant reminder.

A constant reminder that he failed.

A constant reminder that Hershel's death was his fault.

She would blame him.

She would hate him.

She would remind him that he gave up.

Beth looked to her side, her eyes wide, her heart beating in her ears.

Her father was dead.

Her sister and brother-in-law likely were, too.

Rick. Carl. Michonne. Sasha. Carol. Tyreese. Bob. Lizzie. Mika. Luke. Molly. Judith.

But Daryl wasn't. He was alive, he was right next to her.

And now, he was a constant reminder.

She could have protected her sister.

She could have protected Judith.

She could have protected her father.

But she didn't.

And now, she was stuck with a constant reminder.

She was weak.

She was helpless.

She would die soon too.

She wasn't made for this world, and she knew that.

Daryl knew that, too, she thought.

They got up. Daryl extended his hand, and he led the way. _They couldn't stay here. _

They walked. They kept walking. Their legs hurt. Their muscles hurt. But they kept going. They had to. They had to keep on somehow.

Daryl had to keep her alive, no matter what.

Beth had to keep him alive, no matter what.

They were all each other had. They were the only family they had left.

That night, Beth sat staring at the fire. Daryl's eyes looked lost. He looked broken. She'd seen that look before.

That little girl. The one in the barn.

She'd seen him break.

Daryl watched her. He remembered back at the farm, when things got bad.

She tried to end it. She tried to opt out.

He couldn't let her do that. He had to keep her alive.

He couldn't lose her too.

"We're not the only survivors. We can't be." Beth piped up.

She had hope. Hershel did too, Daryl thought. That's why he kept walkers in his barn.

Daryl was afraid that Beth would try to kill herself again, but this time he saw something different.

Hope.

He couldn't bring himself to look her in the eyes. His heart was broken, but still beating.

Even after losing everyone, she still had hope.

How the hell could she still have hope?

Beth couldn't read his facial expressions. She didn't know how to deal with him.

"You're a tracker. You can track." So she wanted him to help her find them. They were dead. He couldn't help her, even if he wanted to.

He'd faced death before. His mother. Jim. Amy. Sophia. Dale. Andrea.

But nothing, nothing compared to this.

Daryl could see her face. Anger was burning in her eyes.

"Fine. If you won't track them. I will." She picked up his knife. She was actually going to do this. She was going to try to find them. She still believed they were alive.

Beth knew, somehow, someone was still alive. Even if it wasn't Maggie, or Glenn, or Rick. Maybe it was Carl or Michonne or Sasha or Tyreese. Someone, somewhere had to be alive. After everything they'd been through, Beth knew someone had to survive.

All she could focus on was finding them. Daryl couldn't believe it. How could she keep going even when he couldn't?

Daryl kicked out the fire and walked behind her. The sun would be up soon, maybe they'd find something. At least Beth wasn't trying to kill herself. He had to keep her alive. He had to do that for Hershel. He had to do that for Maggie. He had to do it for himself.

Beth wasn't sure how long they'd been walking, but the sun was up now. She'd seen signs of people, maybe it was their people?

"Don't mean their alive now. Just means they were alive five or six hours ago." Daryl reminded her. She didn't care. She still had hope.

They kept walking, a walker ambushed them. Beth plunged the knife into the walkers head. She hated killing them, even if they weren't people anymore. They used to be living. With thoughts. Emotions. Cares. Fears.

And now, they were monsters.

Daryl found the pile first. The remains of what was likely their people. He expected Beth to keep going. He expected her to follow behind him, but she didn't.

She cried.

Daryl had only seen her like this once before.

When her mother came out of the barn.

Beth couldn't help it. All she could do was break down. The people she loved. The people she cared for. Most likely, they were all gone. All she could do was stand there. All she could do was let tears stream down her cheeks.

Daryl's heart broke, watching her. She'd recently told him she didn't cry anymore, now he knew that wasn't true. Her whole world had fallen apart again, and he had to watch her grieve.

Grieve for her father. Her sister. Her brother-in-law. Her "kids".

But Beth picked up, she kept going. She had to. She silently believed someone was alive somewhere, even if most of them weren't. She had to believe. So they kept going. They kept pushing.

Then, they found the car. They scavenged what they could, putting items in garbage bags. Then, the herd came.

They climbed in the trunk, and tied it shut.

Beth never liked thunderstorms. She was always afraid when she was a child. But she always had her father. Or her mother. Or Maggie. Or Shawn. Here, she was just with Daryl. He wasn't saying anything. He wasn't comforting. He was just there.

Daryl never liked thunderstorms. He never had anyone to comfort him when he was younger. As a child, he tried to hide. Here, he couldn't hide. He could let Beth know he was afraid. She didn't look afraid.

Then a walker bumped the car, and she jumped. He wanted to reach out, to hug her or something. But he didn't. He kept his crossbow trained at the trunk, he wasn't going to let anything get to her.

Beth kept her knife close. She wasn't going to let anything get to Daryl. She was going to fight. She was going to be strong. She was going to keep going.

"I never liked storms." Beth whispered gently. Daryl was surprised.

"Me either." He replied. That was all they said while they were in the trunk. Until the herd left, and they were able to get out. They didn't know where they were going to go. They didn't know what to do next. Everything was gone.

But they did know three things.

They knew they'd lost everything and everyone they cared about. They knew they had no idea what to do. And, they knew they only had each other.

For now, they needed to make everything okay. For now, that was all they could do.


End file.
